Shapes of Love
by lupin and black
Summary: Mary didn’t die but someone did. The Winchesters are still a hunter family. AU Slash DeanSam JohnMary
1. Burn

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine lalalala

Author Note: This is a big AU from the show's storyline. I had an idea I wanted to try out. I stared writing it and well this is not what I had in mind but…. It fits sort of . This fic is just short burst into an AU there will be about 8 parts in all.

Mary didn't die but someone did. The Winchesters are still a hunter family. AU Dean/Sam later

Burn

Someone else died protecting her baby boys. She would at times feel the tinge of regret, usually when she thought of the girl's family and the loss they must feel. Than she would watch Sammy huddle up on the sofa curled into Dean side, fighting his older brother for the remote. She knew she would trade any life for theirs. At times she thought that made her a bad person but in the face of what she knew was out there she thought most of the time it made her a good mother.

Going out that night had been her older sister's idea. Ruth thought John and Mary needed to get out more. Being locked up in the house with two young kids wasn't healthy for such a young couple. Ruth bought the movie tickets, set up the dinner reservation, and even sent over her babysitter, a tall bouncing dark skinned girl of 17, with a wide happy smile, to watch the boys. Mary and John went out and came home to the poor girl pined to the ceiling and something dark and evil reaching into the crib.

The minute they stepped into the house Mary knew something was wrong. She took off for the steps at a run, John followed close behind. Dean's room was empty and the door to the nursery was closed. John shoved it open. Dean was in the crib curled around Sammy. The darkness in the veiled shape of a human stood over the crib. John screamed the darkness turned to face them. Mary stood frozen in the door way a deep cold feeling filed her, kept her unmoving . John move to stand in front the crib. Something thick and heavy landed on his shoulder. His eyes moved upward, Mary followed his gaze, the babysitter was pinned to the ceiling, eyes wide an odd look of acceptance on her young pretty face. Time stood still.

The girl on the ceiling explode into flames. The darkness stood in the corner and watched them. Mary had the feeling it was laughing, she took of at a ran for the fire extinguisher. When she got back John was lifting Dean out the crib, Sammy clutched to Dean's chest., the room was ablaze in dance orange flames, the ones close to the ruined body of the girl blared a ferocious red. Dean clung to his brother, eyes wide body shacking. Mary traded John the fire extinguisher for the boys. She lifted Dean close to her and ran out the house.

John followed a few moments later face cover in soot a fire extinguisher clutched in his hand. The fire department arrived soon after. When it was all over the Winchester settled into a motel not far from their burnt bright yellow house. They attended the funeral at the request of the girl's mother. Dean stood apart from them, eyes focused on the closed casket, small hand clinched into a fist at his side, he said not a word.

They spent the next four weeks in the motel waiting for answers. The ruling came back faulty wireing. John laughed for an hour after he got off the phone with the police chief. Faulty wireing didn't cast moving darkness did not explain the shadow reaching for their boys. The bleeding burning girl stuck to the ceiling.

Mary took up smoking again, John took up drinking. Dean took up Sammy watching, he never let his brother out of his site. Sam would only sleep with Dean curled around him. John told Mary to let it be and she did the best way she could. She let Dean feed Sammy his bottle, let him calm his brother when he cried, help change his dippers, she sat on the tub and watched Dean given Sammy his nighttime baths. She watched Dean watching Sammy instead of playing with his toy or begging for TV time.

She sat a little away from where the boys sat, Sam half sitting, half leaning against Dean, mouth opened as he drooled all over Dean's bright blue tee shirt. Dean looked up and across the room at Mary. She gave him a soft smile. He looked at her hard for a few moments before returning his gaze to his sleeping brother. He didn't say a word, he never did anymore.

Five weeks after everything. John came back his face straight and serious. Hands empty of the usual brown bag, heavy glass bottle. He didn't drink before dinner or after. After dinner he sat down by the window next to where Mary sat smoking, her eyes forced on their boys. The next morning he pilled them in to the big black car and drove them to a physic named Missouri. She looked at them, a stretched look on her round brown face. After a few moments she nodded twice. Leading them into her house, she sat them down and told them what she knew.

John wanted to do the hunting alone. Mary laughed in his face and took the shot gun from his hand. They would do nothing alone, from here on out the Winchesters stuck together. They packed up what little had survived the fire, leaving some with Ruth, the rest they stored in the trunk of the impala. The boys where settle in the back seat. Dean half leaning into the car seat to cheek on a sleeping Sammy. Mary slumped low in the passenger side a map opened in her lap, John behind the wheel eyes hidden behind dark glasses. As they crossed the Kansas state line Mary knew they would not be back at less not to stay it wasn't home anymore.


	2. Belief

Belief

Dean stopped speaking the night of the fire and didn't say another word till three days after the first year anniversary. His first word was Sammy's name said in a static raw scream that bounced down the hall and meet Mary's ears where she stood washing socks in the bathroom sink. Mary ran into the living room prepared for the worst. She arrived in time to see Sammy jerked his hand away form the socket. Sammy turned, wondrous look on his young face to look at Dean. Dean sat huddled on the ratty green couch, face pale, breath coming in rough burst. He was still recovering for a bad case of the flu. Sammy's eyes widened as Dean whispered his name again.

Dean didn't sound like the little boy who use to come screaming into the house arms waving begging to be picked up. Dean's voice was now a deep bruising purple. Sammy couldn't remember the difference. Sammy raced across the room chubby arms out stretched. He flung his small round body at Dean, trusting completely that Dean's arms would wrap around him, secure him in place. Dean never let his brother down. He caught Sam and pulled the smaller boy up on the couch next to him. Sam beamed up at Dean and wiggled closer, tucking his dark head under Dean's chin. Mary left them there on the couch curled around each other and went in search of John. She found him cleaning the rifles, the hand guns settled on the table already ready cleaned.

"Dean just spoke" Mary tries to keep her voice casual, the slight tremble at the end disappoints her.

John looked up at her, big hands halted in there work. "He said Sammy's name." He doesn't sound surprised, more resigned than anything.

Mary nodded, shoved her hair out of her face. "We should talk to him about what he saw that night."

John nodded hands moving back to there familiar routine. "Not now give him a few days." He rested the clean rifles on the table, gives her a small half smile. "Relax Mary, he's talking. Dean will be just fine."

Mary nodded, lifted John's hands away from the gun. Mary kissed the bruised knuckles hand she loved so well.


	3. Brave

Brave

Dean never questioned things about his life. Sammy was always full of questions demanding answers, sulking when there were none to be had. Dean didn't need questions, he had memories. He remembers waking feeling cold and stretched too far. He remembers wishing his mommy and daddy had not left them with the bouncy girl with the wide smile. He remembers the sharp pulsing cold in his blood and taking off at a full run for Sammy room. He remembers shoving open the nursery door, Sammy soft pleading whimpers, the sound that was always a prelude to a long angry cry. He remembers climbing into the crib curling himself around Sammy, the way the whimpering stopped and Sammy breath evened out.

He felt the darkness before he saw it, Sammy cried the door slammed shut, He screamed loud and long till his throat felt raw and grated. The room was quite beyond his screams and Sammy sobs but he could feel it dark and cold waiting. The door closed with the darkness was thrown open and she was there. Before the darkness took her she blazed a bright forceful white, her eyes turned to molten gold. For a moment Dean thought the darkness would leave. She stood in front the crib arm throw wide the white light souring out of her leaving no room for shadow. But the darkness closed in swift and achingly fast and she was swallowed into it, the light went out and all Dean saw was shadow. Her thin body jerked to the left, a harsh snapping sound filled the room she didn't cry out. Her body spins upward pined eagle style on the ceiling. Dean looked up and meets blazing golden eyes and he knew he could be brave. Protect Sammy that was his mission. The darkness came forward Dean curled tighter around Sammy who turned his head resting his soft cheek over Dean heart. Dean knew he had to be brave. The darkness reached in and touched him coldness spread throw his, freezing fire burned into him. For a moment there was nothing beyond pain, Sammy stilted cries and darkness

He heard his daddy voice and forced his eyes open the darkness moved back and daddy was there standing in front the crib eyes wide worried and so there. He heard his mommy voice felt something wet hit his cheek and than fire bright blazing hurtful, fire. Dean looked up and met smoldering golden eyes. There was a large leaking gash in the middle of her, fire leap around her orange and angry, she didn't scream. Dean knew he had to be that brave. He was lifted daddy's arms tight and warm around him. Than mommy's arms not as big but still so warm, almost safe. The room was hot to hot, the smoke was thick, so heavy it caught in his throat. He lent forward crushing Sammy between him and mommy closed his eyes and tried not to breath.

Than it was cool he opened his eyes. They where standing outside and daddy was moving towards them the house ablaze behind him a red tin in his hand. He dropped it and warped his arm around mommy, mashing Dean and Sammy between them. They smell of fear fire smoke and sweat Dean didn't mind. He closed his eyes and clung to Sammy. It was almost safe here.


	4. Bendiction

Benediction

Mom had dad and Sam had Dean that's how it was. When they were younger before Dean was old enough to accompany dad on the hunt, Dean would help Sammy take his bath and read him his bedtime story. Mom would wait up for dad. When John got home she would strip him, help him take his bath , clean his wounds and put him to bed.

When they got older and Dean started going on hunts with dad, Sam would wait up with mom till they got home. Mary would help dad and Sammy would help Dean. When Sam turned 8 he got to go on his first hunt. It was a simple vengeful sprit. Mary and John did the hard work all, Sam and Dean had to do was dust the bones. Sam did the dusting Dean did the look out. It all happen very fast and Sammy was a bit disappointed When mom and dad found them there was a gash along Mary's forehead, a bleeding cut down the side John's face but they were smiling. Proud open smiles that made Sammy blush and lean into Dean's side. John died three years later, bitten by a werewolf, gunned down my Mary.

Than mom had no one.

Sam fixed Dean's wounds and Dean bandaged Sammy's cuts. They would take turns in the shower. Dean would wait till Sam was mostly asleep before turning off the light in their room. Mary sat and watched the sky


	5. Battles

Battles

Because this is what John would have wanted. Mary stood out side the abounded house it had been empty of human life since the late 1980's but for the first time since it had been building over 100 years ago it was free of spirits. She had done that, her and her boys. She turned and watched her boys stand over the bright orange fire. Sam leans into Dean side, a startling brush of red across his brow. Dean turned to find her watching he arched a brow face opened questioning . At 14 he was already mostly a man in all the way that mattered. Sometime she wonder if that was something to be proud of. She picked up the bag of salt and guns and made her way over to where the boys stood. Sam looked up at her, bright sad eyes in a small face. She shoved messy hair out of his face. Glancing down at the fire and nodded twice. Dean picked up the fire extinguish and ended it. They walk quietly back to the car. Mary in the lead Dean and Sam trailing behind.

Things had been different these past two years. They had moved more, fought harder, killed more then was there necessary shear of anything that looked remotely dangerous. The fighting had left Sam quite and drawn in, left Dean angry and fierce cover. Mary couldn't make here self regret it. Life was hard dangerous it was good they had learn to be weary and angry it was the only thing that could protect them. Mary had once thought love and family would do it but the lost of John two years previous had take than from her. So she piled her boy into the imple steped on the gas and never reslly let up.

She could hear them talking I hush voice behind her. She would pile them inot the car drive them back to the motel that would be home for two more day before they would take off for New York The mission here was done there was no reason to stay. There was a lot of dangerous active going on in New York. She had got a call from James early in the week he need help she need to fight. They might stay for six months instead of the usual two. Until the summer give the boy a chance to get settle in school for a bit. Might even rent an apartment. There had been no rented house or apartments, not since that night in late October when she lost John almost lost Sam again. They been moving chasing what need to be killed for going 2 years. No stopping No resting.

She slides behind the wheel watched Dean shove Sam into he back seat. Sam yawn mouth stretched wide eyes wrinkled up he look young and sleep, the gash across his head had stopped bleeding but still look violently red. Dean slides in next to him manhandling Sam till he mostly stretched out over Dean. She thinks it time they took a rest. New York would be a good place to lay low for awhile. Big city lot to get lost in. Sam would love the museums the library, Dean would have time to go prowling. She sucks in a shaky breath lights a cigarette and starts the car up. John would allow them this a small time to rest


	6. Beauty

A/N There might be some confusing with the earlier chapters. I rearrange them the and add a new part. Reviews make me do a happy dance. Peace

Warning: Slash of the underage Wincest kind. Sam 16 Dean 20

Beauty

There are times Mary thinks she is the worst mother in history and there are times she doesn't care. Dean at 20 is something more than beautiful and he knows it. He uses his looks when he needs to and many times just because he can. She doesn't question where he disappeared to at night. Sam does in a loud angry voice that shakes the dirty apartment and leaves Mary feeling useless. Mary leaves them to their fighting, takes up her place in the kitchen, book open on the table a cup of coffee beside it. After some time the screaming changes, Sam voice drops from out right anger to something like disappointment. She hears Dean roar his defense. His voice rising to battle Sam's softer disappointed murmur. She hears the sounds of their scuffle, quite and than the sound of Dean calming Sam down. The walls are thin, the hallway nonexistence. From where she sits in the kitchen sipping coffee she hears the sounds of their frantic activity, she turns on the radio.

Mary checks on them hours later. From the doorway she sees them, the light streaming in from the hallway illuminates their still forms. Dean lay on his back, one arm tossed over his eyes, the other hand tangled in Sam's hair. Sam is stretched out over Dean, head resting on Dean's chest, mouth open, he's drooling a bit. The room smells of dirty clothes, sweat and sex.

Mary knows what they do, she can't make herself stop it. She thinks sometime that if John had lived this wouldn't have happen. John isn't here and if this is what it takes to keep her family, than she can do this. She will do this, turn a blind eye to the tension between them, the looks, the touches. The desperate way Sam watches Dean, the possessive way Dean touches Sam. She will walk into their room, step over their spilt clothes, pull the sheets up around them, kiss a soft brown head, a messy almost blond one, ignore the leaking bottle of lube on the floor, close the door softly behind her. Line the doorway with salt. Leave them to each other.


	7. Breadth

Breadth

Sam's decision to go away for school almost spilt the family. Mary thought it would be a good idea as long as he kept his check-ins regular. Dean thought it was stupid selfish, unsafe. It would be impossible for them to protect him while he was away pretending to be normal. Sam just wanted some time to figure out how to be Sam and not Dean's Sammy. In the end he left with Mary's blessing and Dean's loath. In his second month he wrote home and told Mary about the pretty girl with the blond hair and bright hazel eyes he meet in the library. She didn't show the letter to Dean.

The night before his last final of his first semester, Sam called home sobbing and begging for Dean to come visit him. Dean was out the door before Mary hung up the phone. He was gone two weeks. When Dean came back Sam was curled in the passenger seat of the Impala face drawn and tight. Neither boy told her what happen. She didn't ask. Let them keep their secret as long as they were safe. Sam stayed with them through the winter holiday. In early January Dean drove him back to Stanford, a resigned look on his face, anger in his eyes.

Mary saw Sam when ever she could find the time to drive through California. She made sure to find hunts in the general area of Stanford. She didn't know how often Dean visited him. He never went with her. Sam usually found them for winter holiday. They would spend the time together. For awhile it felt like nothing had changed. Than goodbye morning would come, a sleepy Sammy would curl into the passenger seat of the Impale, Dean behind the wheel. Mary never drove Sam back to school, always let Dean have the extra time to say goodbye.

Three years drifted by in a haze of blood, salt circles and desperate prays to keep her boys safe. Over the last year Mary saw less of Dean, he took on more jobs by himself, spent more time on the road.

Dean fell off the map the last week in October. Mary took the truck and drove to Stanford. She met the hazel eyed spitfire that had become Sammy's home. Mary saw Dean in the set of her mouth, the tilt of her head, the narrowing of her eyes. And Mary understood. She asked Sam to come help her find his brother. Sam came without protest a soft kiss on the girl call Jessica mouth, he left without looking back.

They didn't find Dean in Jericho. Not that Mary really thought they would. Mary drove Sam back to school. She sat outside cell phone to her ear trying to reach Dean. If she could find the dame boy she wouldn't have to pull Sammy out of school to help her hunt him down. She had just given up on Dean's cell when she looked up and across the street she saw her son's home exploded into flames. She was half way into the house before she realized where she was. Sam lay sprawled out on the bed face twisted in horror, the pretty girl burring on the ceiling above him. Mary dragged him out the house, he clasped halfway to the car, body shaking clinging to her. Mary knew, knew like she always simply knew, things where changing, they had to find Dean.


	8. Brass

A/N there is one or two more parts to this. I'm still on the hunt for a beta so if you're up for the job drop me a line. Peace

Brass

When Mary heard the news of Daniel Elkins death she knew where they would find Dean. He was waiting for them at a diner just off the highway. His hair was longer than she'd seen it in years, his face drawn and anger but his eyes were bright. He smirked when he saw them, the anger melted away, vanishing like a trick of the light. Sam dropped into the seat next to Dean, wrapped long arms around his brother. Dean let Sammy cling to him. Mary sat across from her boys, watched them reconnect. After a time, Dean pulled away from Sam reached into his jacket and dropped the gun on the table. Mary reached for it, hands griping tight around the handle. This was the gun that would end it. She looked up meet Dean's bright eyes and knew he lost something to gain this.

It took Mary two nights to figure out what her son gave up for the gun. She should have known sooner, a mother affection can be blind even in the face of the obvious. She sent Sammy out for supplies, Caleb was near he could be trusted to give them what they needed no questions asked. Sam had stood in the doorway mouth open ready to complain, a sharp look from Dean sent him off in a huff.

Dean sat cross legged on the bed a circle of salt surrounding the low wood motel bed. She knew it was to keep him in just as much as it was to keep others out. She sat on the bed across from him, sheets rumpled from Sammy's sleep.

She watched him looked for the signs she should have seen before. He watched her, hands taking apart and rebuilds the guns in his lap.

"Did you kill them."

He nods once, eyes focused on his task.

"They got you before or after you got the gun."

He smirks, it crawls along his lips crinkling up the edges of his eyes and she loves him, her eldest son. She doesn't know what she'll do when he's gone.

"During."

"You should have waited for us."

"Wouldn't have mattered.. I'm okay mom for now."

"Does Sammy know."

"Yeah. I think he dreamt it first."

Mary nods because she understands Sam and the dreams. Understand it better than this, than having an undead son.

"When do you… how do you."

He gives her the soft smile the one he never gives anyone but Sam. "Four days. I know where the demon is. We hunt it. Kill it. Then you kill me."

"There has to be another way." The words are out her mouth before she thinks to hold them in.

Dean's face is serious, eyes leveled calm. He reminds her painfully of John. "Never another way mom you know that."

He's right of course. He and John never wrong when it came to the hunt.  
"Four days, that's not a very long time. Does Sammy know?"

"No but he will when the time is right. Don't let him be the one."

She nods of course never ask that of Sam. They sit for a while watching each other. Mary's arms ache to hold him, feel warm skin under her palm. She misses him, misses the baby boy with laughing curious eyes, flushed cheeks, who spoke so fast he stumbled over his words. She misses the boy the fire ripped from her.


End file.
